


light the fuse, bring the (boom)

by drake_wayne



Category: DCU (Comics), Red Robin (Comics), Young Justice (Comics)
Genre: Conner has attitude, Gen, Pre-Slash, Pro-Wrestling AU, Tim is done
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-28
Updated: 2020-10-28
Packaged: 2021-03-08 20:08:20
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,305
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27252445
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/drake_wayne/pseuds/drake_wayne
Summary: When Superman and his son join the Wayne Wresting Association, Tim assumes that it'll be great for business. Unfortunately, Conner Kent a.k.a Superboy is nothing like Superman and Tim Drake-Wayne only has so much patience.
Relationships: Tim Drake & Kon-El | Conner Kent
Kudos: 13





	light the fuse, bring the (boom)

"I'm glad that you finally accepted my offer." Bruce Wayne sat upright, fingers steepled. There was something in the way that he looked at the man in front of him that was decidedly not something that Tim Drake-Wayne, adopted son and colleague of Bruce, wanted to think about right now.

Nodding, Clark Kent gave him a bright smile, the same one that had captured the nation's heart for the last couple of decades. "It felt only right. And it wasn't... the same, wrestling without you there."

From somewhere to the side of him - directly across from Tim - came a forced retching noise. The table turned to look at the source. Someone who looked almost like he could be a younger brother to Clark, rather than his son, grinned unapologetically.

First impressions aside, this was, for all intents and purposes, a business meeting, and someone was doing a very good job at being wholly unprofessional. Not only that, but Tim was acutely aware that this would be one of the first meetings between Bruce and Clark for a while, maybe even the first since the tag team split up as Bruce explored greener pastures. Whether or not Conner Kent realised that, or simply didn't care, he was surely ruining the moment.

"I'm going to take Conner on a tour of the building," Tim announced. Clark looked as though he'd forgotten Tim was even there, but Bruce nodded, nonplussed. "We'll be heading to my office shortly. Just bring him back in one piece."

Conner snorted, and it was obvious that he took that as a joke. Super active in the ring or not, Tim knew that he could take Conner in a fight - or at least keep up with him. There was no need to be so cocky.

The Wayne building was huge, and it was unnecessary for Conner to see _all_ of it. Just a small section should, in theory, give Clark and Bruce long enough to catch up. As he gestured for Conner to follow him out of the room, Tim's brain whirred, processing how long would be appropriate to give their mentors to catch up.

"You won't be here _too_ often, unless you want to be." Tim led them to an elevator, punching in the buttons to bring them to the downstairs of the Wayne Enterprises building. "I'm assuming you know already, but the majority of our shows are done in different venues across the country; give different fans a chance to see the show, etc cetera. If I'm not mistaken, you did some shows like that with the League, right?" Tim _knew_ he was not mistaken - everyone knew how the Wrestling League of America worked, given that it was the biggest promotion around until the Wayne Wrestling Association was built some years ago, but he gave Conner the chance to confirm anyway.

"Some," Conner shrugged. He barely looked like he was paying attention. 

"We're planning on being in Smallville for your first match," Tim volunteered. Things weren't set in stone yet, but if it meant that Conner may possibly start paying attention, then Tim would gladly offer up the information. Working with someone with no interest at all in the rest of the company was not ideal, and as someone who would be handling Conner for the very start of his career here, he _needed_ this to work.

The elevator dinged, and they stepped out onto the lower level. It was a couple of degrees cooler down here and Tim watched Conner recoil slightly in surprise before straightening back up.

"That's.... whatever, I guess."

It was all Tim could do to not roll his eyes. The last thing he wanted was to be working with someone who shrugged everyone off in an attempt to look cool.

"Your matches after that would likely be two to three weeks later, I think. I don't have the outline on hand, but we want you to have a bit of time where you don't have to travel, unless you want to see the next matches, so that you don't run out of opponents in your league too fast. After that, we would like to feature you every couple of weeks, preferably when Clark isn't fighting - in all honesty, I think his return will overshadow a lot of matches at the moment."

The other boy only shrugged. "Whatever. As long as I get to wrestle."

There really wasn't much point trying to talk to him, was there? Still, if Tim was the current liaison to new talent, then he'd have to build some sort of rapport with the guy.

Taking a sharp left, Tim pushed through two heavy doors while turning back to look at Conner. Maybe this would perk him up a little.

"This is our own private gym," he supplied, gesturing around the room. Wayne Enterprises had spared no expense, from the air conditioning to the top of the line equipment around the room. In two corners of the room were wall to floor mirrors, with mats covering the floor and various pieces of weight training equipment around it. "Our own wrestlers, along with other Wayne Enterprises employees, are permitted to use this gym as much as they want, provided they show their ID at the entrance." Conner barely seemed to be listening again, but he had already taken a step forward and was now examining the room. 

"This isn't all," Tim added. Conner glanced back to him, the frown gone from his face. Maybe he could even smile by the end of the day, but Tim would rather not bet on it. He walked to the door on the left hand side of the room, closing his eyes for a second to enjoy the artificial breeze flowing through his hair. Conner wasn't far behind when Tim opened the next door.

There was about six foot of free space from each wall to the centrepiece of the room. Tim watched as Conner looked up and down over it before approaching. "Also for free use - and this can be booked for private use if necessary. It might not be the softest ring either, but it's great for practice matches."

Conner ran a hand along the ropes, pulling at them slightly. He seemed to be happy enough with the tension as he turned back to Tim, face still neutral. "Not bad. But do you ever actually get other wrestlers here? I mean, no offense, but Gotham's not exactly a big place for wrestling. If I can't practice against anyone without them having to fly out first, then what's the point?"

He wasn't entirely _wrong_ , but whether it was known for wrestling or not, there were a lot of local wrestlers that made use of the ring, especially from the extended Wayne family. "Obviously Bruce is in the building all the time, if you can find him with some actual free time. Nightwing, Red Hood, Red Robin, Signal, Spoiler, and Black Bat are all regulars here, along with a lot of new talent that aren't signed yet. Wing runs a lot of lessons for people wanting to get into the industry, provided they pass security checks et cetera. You never know, maybe you can help mentor some new talent." Tim shrugged nonchalantly. Superboy was good in the ring for sure, at least from the matches Tim had seen; maybe some teaching could humble Conner Kent a little. Tim tried not to laugh at the idea.

Shrugging, Conner crossed his arms. "I don't really have time to mess about. I'm here to make it _big."_

It was all Tim could do to stop himself from sighing. Was this really the attitude of someone they wanted working with them? It was too late now either way. "Maybe I'll ask Clark." Tim smiled wryly. He didn't look back at Conner after that comment, instead leading them back out through the door. "Showers and locker rooms are on the other side of the room; you’ll find them easily enough."

Going back the way they came, Tim was thankful for the elevator doors closing, as the temperature felt like it went back up a degree or two. Conner's arms were still crossed and he somehow looked more surly than before as he leaned back against the elevator. Maybe it would be good to get Jason to have a word with him if he kept this up - Jay had to get over a pretty big attitude change once he returned after his big injury before he managed to pull it together and got big. And a young wrestler like Conner had to have heard of the fall and rise of the Red Hood; maybe he'd have enough respect for him to actually listen.

This time, Tim pressed the elevator buttons for a higher floor. It was in awkward silence that they stood for a minute as the lift slowly ascended. It was a shame; hearing that Clark's son would also be coming over to the company sounded like such a good opportunity - the friendship between Clark and Bruce these last twenty or so years had hardly wavered. If this kid had been anything like Clark he would have been so easy to get along with. Instead, he was the complete opposite. Where had it gone wrong?

After the elevator dinged, Tim stepped out and strode down the hallways to their next location. Another set of double doors opened up to a wide - a _very_ wide - cafeteria. The various smells of food and drink made him inhale deeply. Maybe a big boy like Conner would find this a little more interesting.

"You're welcome here whenever you visit--"

_"If_ I ever have to visit." 

Tim pursed his lips for a second as he tried not to let that comment annoy him. "The food is second to none. Healthy, too. Did you--"

"Timmy!"

Oh, no.

"Didn't think I'd see you here out of your office! What - oh! _Oh!"_ The new arrival turned swiftly to Conner. "I'm gonna go out on a limb here and assume you’re related to Clark, because you totally have the super look about you!" Dick Grayson shoved a hand towards Conner, looking way more excited than he had any right to be.

Conner actually stood up a little straighter and took Dick's hand, some of his awkwardness dissipating. "Conner Kent. You're Nightwing, right?"

Dick looked delighted to be recognised, and Tim felt vaguely offended. He himself wasn't as active and hadn’t been wrestling for half as long as Dick, but Conner either didn't seem to recognise him as Red Robin at all or just didn't care. Would he recognise Jason too, the middle brother between Tim and Dick, or was it only because Dick had fought in the League alongside Clark and Bruce back in the day? Tim had only ever fought in the WWA, and Jason had primarily been wrestling independent circuits before the WWA was formed.

" _Please,_ call me Dick! Do you guys need anything? Are you hungry? I'm just about to grab something myself - how about you both sit down and I'll be right over!"

Conner finally looked somewhat out of his element, and Tim tried to hide a small smile. Dick wasn't _always_ this overwhelming, but he'd idolised Superman growing up (who hadn't?). Who knew, maybe he too had had the stupid notion that any one of them could be as close to the superman of their generation.

"Coffee, please. Conner?" Tim prompted.

"Uh... I'll just have some water. Please?"

Dick all but skipped off.

"Let's sit down," Tim suggested as he led them to a table next to the window. The grey Gotham buildings didn't look as dull this high up as the tiniest bit of light shone through the clouds. It still wasn't exactly Metropolis, but it was something at least. He wondered for a second if he should apologise for the human hurricane that was Dick Grayson himself, but Conner deserved it, he decided.

Conner looked back in Dick's direction for a second before taking a seat and looking more out of place than he had all day. "He's," Conner cleared his throat. "Friendly?"

"Well of course," Tim smiled. "Isn't it polite to be friendly with coworkers that you meet for the first time?" Conner pointedly did not meet his eyes as Tim glanced in his direction.

Queue or not, if the Wayne boys needed anything then the Wayne Enterprises building would provide it immediately. It only took another moment for Dick to bound back, holding a stacked tray in front of him. Maybe choosing a small table hadn't been Tim's best idea, but Dick didn't seem bothered as he angled the tray so that it jutted out in Tim's direction, coffee sat directly before him.

The tray was laden with food; various wraps, side dishes of beans, and some chips, as a treat. As slender a build as Dick had, he could definitely put away this much food easily, even if Conner's expression said that he thought otherwise.

"You looking forward to your first match here?" Dick grabbed the food closest to him.Tim could see Conner eyeing him dubiously.

Conner shrugged, eyes moving from the food back to Dick. "I want a big first match. Like, _big."_

"You won't quite be fighting Batman yet," Tim raised an eyebrow and took a sip of his coffee. "That's for your dad to do. But you won't be stuck with just jobbers, either. We were considering making your first fight against Red Robin."

Scoffing, Conner rolled his eyes. "That is _not_ a big match."

"He's won five of his last six matches."

"So?"

Tim could feel his eyebrow twitching, just a little bit. Dick looked from Conner to Tim, connecting the dots. Conner had no idea who Red Robin was. 

Swallowing his last bite, Dick smiled. "He doesn't fight often right now but when he does, the fans love him." It was all Tim could do not to blush as his brother grinned proudly.

"Oh, great, a fan favorite. So I'm just gonna be another guy they want to see fail, then?"

Leaning closer, Tim folded his arms over the table and whispered conspiratorially. "You would win. There were talks on a twenty minute long match to showcase exactly what you can do. I've seen your matches. I know you have a lot of moves in your arsenal that don't often get used, and Red Robin can sell. Of course, we won't be making him look weak, but that only means that you'll look stronger at the end when you win." He shrugged. "If we're having Batman and Superman reuniting on live television, wouldn't it be interesting to see their protogés have a rivalry at the same time? Fans love a little family drama. There's no need to overdo it of course, but..."

Finally, he looked a little more amenable to it. "I can see what you're saying. But, what about if I fought Nightwing instead?" Conner gestured to Dick.

"Nightwing isn't really considered his protégé any more. He has his own rivals. We want you to have something fresh. Of course, if you have an angle in mind that would sell better, then let me know. Otherwise, Red Robin would be a good start for you." Dick looked between them, looking like he wanted to intervene, but Tim gave him a look.

"I guess..." Conner sighed. "He just better be ready for this. If it's my first match here, don't think I'm going easy."

"He'll be ready, I'm sure," Tim tried so hard to hide a smile, and Dick looked amused too. It really wasn't so far a stretch to figure out that Tim was Red Robin, as it was public knowledge that Bruce Wayne was Batman. Dick had been around for long enough that most people knew him as Nightwing, and everyone already knew that he was Bruce’s adopted son. Batman, Nightwing, Red Hood, Red Robin all performed as a part of the “Batfamily”, as affectionately named by the fans. Considering that Bruce Wayne - Batman - had three adopted sons who’s ages all corresponded to that of the other wrestlers in the “batfamily”... Most people he'd met from other promotions had figured it out or just read about it, but apparently this kid never got the memo. Of course, wrestlers never had to be smart, but Conner definitely seemed a far cry from Clark.

"We're estimating a couple of weeks before the match; Jason wants you to get familiarised with the facilities and training regimes first, and you'll need to see Tam about your ring gear. Everyone's been kind of booked up with all of the shows and new recruits recently, but I'll let them know to put you on priority." Big shoes to fill meant big expectations and Tim would be lying if he said he didn't want an opponent who was fully equipped to put on a good show with him.

Conner raised an eyebrow before grinning. "I won't complain about that - guess they know talent when they see it."

They looked similar for sure, but the smile on Conner's face really showed the resemblance between him and Clark. He was handsome before, but his smile was dazzling - that would do wonders for the crowd. They should keep him as a baby face for now - one of the good guys, which the audience would find easier with his resemblance to Clark.

Dick started eating his next wrap, watching Conner thoughtfully.

"We don't take on just anyone. Everyone we have here is talented." Tim smiled wryly before taking out his phone. "If you do have any concerns and needs, it's me that you'll be contacting for the time being. Do you prefer correspondence by email or text? I'd prefer email, but - "

"Text," Conner replied, grin turning into a smirk. Great to know that Tim's new rival for the time being was going to be annoying on purpose, but even Nigtwing smiled a little.

Still, Tim would play it professional here. "Number, please."

They chatted idly for the next few minutes about Dick's upcoming plans. The tray slowly emptied. It wasn't until Dick got to the chips at the end that Conner opened his mouth to say something about it, but Tim took the last sip of his coffee and pushed away from the table.

"As nice as it's been to see you, Dick, it's probably about time to meet with Bruce and Clark again before they forgot we're even here."

*

Tim was busy. Tim was _always_ busy, but this weekend specially had been full of meetings and briefings and coordinating the show and way too many things for him to worry about. It was great, then, that one of their wrestlers decided now would be the time to injure themselves. Wayne Enterprises, and by extension, Wayne Wrestling Association had fantastic doctors, so the worry wasn't on the health of the wrestler so much as the fact that they had to find another fight to book so late. Intermingling plot points meant that a lot of people couldn't wrestle until this week's show had taken place for their own stories to resolve. That was how Tim found himself last minute, gearing up for a show that he now only had three days to do, rather than ten days. The introduction of Conner was pretty much the only thing that could be pushed forward, but with such an important match for Conner's first impression, Tim couldn't help but feel guilty at the lack of preparation he'd have. With the rest of business and meetings and rearranging of other people's schedules, Tim had to plan his gym trips at awkward times, often finding himself working out at 11pm.

It wasn't ideal, but it was something at least - the biggest downside was that he’d yet to have a session in the gym or a practice session at all with Conner to see how well they worked together, as well as to learn the way he fought first hand. Tim had a good idea at how some of Conner's moves would feel compared to the people he'd fought, but a lot could be said for experience. He could improvise, at least, and he was confident enough in that. Would Conner have been looking up Tim's techniques at all? Familiarising himself with the types of moves Red Robin used would be helpful, but so far Conner didn't seem to show much interest in anyone but himself. Typical meathead was how he came across, and Tim sorely hoped he was wrong.

Towelling his hair down and sliding back into casual wear, Tim grabbed his bag out of the locker closest to the shower. He slipped on his shoes and ambled down to the cafeteria. He really should be going home at this time of night, but there was too much to be done.

The table he'd sat at with Conner a week before seemed fitting. He pulled out his phone and laptop. Just a few more loose ends to tie up, and he'd be able to sleep much easier.

The coffee brought to him a couple of minutes later - bless the staff for knowing exactly what he needed - might work against the whole idea of making him sleep, but this was about to be a much more stressful week if he didn't manage to get just a few more bits and pieces out of the way.

One burning sip later, Tim pulled out his phone, scrolling down until he found _Kent, Conner._ It was maybe a little too late to speak in person, but a text was easy enough for Conner to just reply to in the morning, right? With everything being so rushed, maybe it was a good job that Conner chose text over email, if only because most people read texts much faster than emails.

**Tim  
Sent: 11:16pm**  
_Are you ready for Wednesday? I apologise again for how last minute the change is, but I just want to make sure you have everything you need in time for the big fight._

He wasn’t sure if he should ask about researching Red Robin, or if that would be too patronising. Heck, he still wasn't sure if Conner had even realised that Tim and RR were one and the same yet; all it took was just one Google search, _Superboy._

With no immediate reply, Tim set his phone back down and pulled up the shared document planning out the next couple of months worth of shows. They needed to finalise the big match for next week now that they didn't have the Superboy headlining it. Batman Vs Superman was still a fight the whole team was considering, but there were suggestions of a possible tag team match. Being allies from the very beginning and then breaking them up way later down the line before having the big fight - the audience would probably appreciate that build up much more. It wouldn't feel like such a parallel to Superboy Vs Red Robin, which might remove some of the momentum of their match and not give Conner the push he needed. He could always book himself in for two weeks in a row, get a win, and redeem himself, but two back to back fights were hard to fit in with his schedule. Perhaps Superboy could have another fight, another win if he was up for it, but they'd have to decide relatively soon who it was against - someone at least as good as himself, Tim figured. There were a lot of bigger guys in the company, much closer matched to Conner that would certainly make a good show.

He nearly spilled his coffee as his phone buzzed; he had been a little too deep in his musing to even remember he was awaiting a reply.

**Conner  
Sent: 11:21pm**  
_no problem, ready 2 kick some ass 💪_

Tim let out an exasperated sigh, hitting reply immediately.

**Tim  
Sent: 11:22pm**  
_Do you even know what you're in for?_

The next reply was much quicker, and Tim ignored his laptop in favour of another sip and staring at the conversation thread.

**Conner  
Sent: 11:23pm**  
_high flier lots of flippy shit, ez_

**Conner  
Sent: 11:23pm**  
_he better sell_

He seemed to have some more knowledge of Red Robin's fighting style; had he still really not made the connection, or was he just trying to be cute?

**Tim  
Sent: 11:25pm**  
_He'll sell, trust me. I'll be expecting you to do that same. Are you comfortable improvising with so little choreography to go off?_

**Conner  
Sent: 11:28pm**  
_if he doesn't i'm kicking ur ass_

**Conner  
Sent: 11:28pm**  
_I'll just treat it as a real fight, whatever_

**Tim  
Sent: 11:30pm**  
_Is that any way to speak to your colleagues? Especially considering I’m currently in charge of you - and I hope that doesn't mean you'll be connecting any punches._

Surely Superboy had enough professionalism to keep his moves controlled even when he was improvising. A lot of the fights were planned out move by move at the WLA, as he'd heard countless wrestlers including Dick and Bruce tell him before. It could be a struggle for Conner, however cocky he wanted to come across as.

**Conner  
Sent: 11:31pm**  
_ok mr boss baby_

**Conner  
Sent: 11:32pm**  
_no offense but i think i know how to wrestle a bit more than you, I'm a professional i'll be fine_

He truly, _truly,_ was a dumbass. Tim shook his head as he finished the rest of his coffee. Should he tell him? Or, if Conner was going to be so patronising with him as Tim Drake-Wayne, would he then go easy on Red Robin in the ring, still thinking of him as more of a business guy than a wrestler? It was interesting to have an opponent who didn't even realise who he was fighting. Maybe Tim should just make the most of it while he could.

**Tim  
Sent: 11:34pm**  
_I'll trust you to make it a good match then. I know Red Robin can improvise well so as long as you can keep up with him : )_

**Conner  
Sent: 11:35pm**  
_what is he ur fave wrestler or something_

**Conner  
Sent: 11:35pm**  
_up your standards dude_

He really seemed to enjoy digging his own grave, didn't he?

**Tim  
Sent: 11:37pm**  
_Say that to me again after Wednesday._

**Conner  
** Sent: 11:37pm  
_haha i will, think you'll have a new fave by then ;)_

It was astonishing, really, just how different he was to Clark. Maybe part of it was the cockiness of being the son of a great wrestler and having the advantage of being trained by them, or maybe Conner was just born this obnoxious. Still, it was… interesting for Tim to have to somewhat manage him. Everyone else so far that he’d had the brief experience of managing had been fairly polite and professional to him, whereas Conner was treating him more like… like he was forced to hang out with his dad’s friend’s son while their dads hung out together. That wasn’t entirely untrue either. Maybe it was something he should work on before he got moved over to the creative team and the rest of management proper, if Tim still yearned to go down that route.

It didn’t hurt though, to have someone his age treating him as just a normal person. Apart from his brothers and Steph, everyone kept things polite and impersonal. If this more casual approach Conner wanted worked though… didn’t Dick always tell him he had to relax a little, to go out and make friends? If that was true, Conner Kent hardly seemed like the best person to start that with.

It was clearly late if Tim was overthinking things this far, and obviously the coffee wasn’t helping him keep a clear head. He discarded the mug and saved a backup of the work document before shutting his laptop and dropping it into his bag. If he was fighting in just a couple of days, Dick and Steph would probably kill him for not making sure he got enough rest before it. He had a little time to continue working tomorrow if he woke up early enough; it was just a shame that it meant that he would definitely have no time to drop in on Superboy. The idea of fighting on live TV with no familiarity with how it felt to fight your opponent was daunting, but not completely unheard of. It just was not like Tim at all to be underprepared, but if the situation forced it then he’d just have to make do. Conner didn’t seem to be bothered about doing things so by the book so hopefully that cocky confidence would work in his favour in the ring. It was bound to be interesting either way… Tim would be lying if he said he wasn’t at least a little bit excited for it.

*

The screams of a crowd never got old. The bright lights, blinding before you can even see anything or anyone in front of you, your own music playing as you emerge to a sea of faces all waiting just for you... why had he ever questioned wanting to do this?

God, it felt like being a _rockstar_. Not much was enough to make Tim Drake-Wayne feel giddy, but damn if he wasn't feeling it right now. The way everyone kept watching him and cheering for him on his way down to the ring, cape swishing around him - Jason could say what he wanted, but the cape really did add a lot to the production. Finally approaching the edge of the ring, Red Robin slid under the first rope. Inside, the crowds were deafening, and it was hard to make out any of the individual sounds - great for him, as it was a lot less distracting. He jumped up from one rope, to two, to the third, until finally he stood on the turnbuckle, his arms outstretched as the crowd grew louder. He let his head fall back for just a second as he took it all in, before backflipping back into the ring, landing perfectly as always.

His own music began to dim. The crowd quietened as the first few bars of a new, unfamiliar song started playing. Robin squinted towards the entrance, trying to see the figure through the flashing lights and smoke erupting out. After a beat or two, _Superboy_ emerged, pausing for a second to let the crowd soak him in. A moment passed, and there was another sea of cheers as he sauntered down the walkway. Idly, Robin wondered if some of those cheers were from fans of him when he was part of the WLA, or the anticipation of seeing his first match here, or perhaps some people merely cheering because that was what you _did_ during entrances unless the wrestler was an established bad guy. Superboy's cockiness would lend itself great to that one day, but it was too early to make any big character decision like that for him. Not that now was the time to think about future stories, Robin chided himself.

It almost seemed like Superboy was ignoring the crowd entirely as he neared the ring before he suddenly stopped, running a hand through his hair and throwing fingerguns and winking to one side of the audience. Robin couldn't help but roll his eyes; it worked but... _ugh._

Superboy finally pulled himself into the ring, flexing once, twice into the camera before retreating to his own corner. His gaze finally fell to Robin, and for the first time his expression actually looked serious and concentrating. Robin rolled his neck, ready, and under his cowl, unknown to Superboy, his eyes were locked on.

DING!

He wasn't surely entirely what to expect, but apparently Superboy didn't want to waste any time. He barrelled forward as if planning on ramming Red Robin right through the ring. Maybe he was, Robin mused, but he wasn't about to get caught off guard so easily. He jumped backwards, feet balancing on the second rope. As Superboy very nearly hit Robin where he was, Robin flipped over Superboy, landing in a roll behind him. He stood up to grab Superboy but the newcomer was much faster than Robin expected, whipping round and throwing himself in a spear at Robin, shoulders hitting him square in the stomach as he went down. That definitely wasn't supposed to connect so much, but Robin had no time to know what he was doing and threw himself down just as Conner was about to hit. Still, a hit was a hit, and it looked damn good to the audience, so he couldn't be all that mad. He could hear the surprised gasps of even the commentary booth from here - most likely they thought that neither would be giving up hits so early in the fight, but at least it made Superboy look good. 

From where they fell, Superboy began punching, his fists just pushing past Robin's cowl and not quite connecting. That was more like it - Robin moved in time with the punches before grabbing Superboy's wrists and going in for a headbutt. Superboy knocked his head backward just in time. Robin rolled over, pulling himself up and grasping his stomach in a half-true show of being winded.

"...and a great comeback from Red Robin!"

"Well, Babs, he's not one to give up easily, even against a bigger guy like Superboy. Speaking of, doesn't he look so much like a younger Superman? It's crazy! You know, having a Superman who's much closer to my age is -" Whose idea was it to let Dick back in the commentator's booth?

Robin rolled his eyes again before tuning him out and returning his focus to Superboy. The taller man was grinning slightly, approval written all over his face. They circled each other for a moment, both watching to see what the other would do next. Robin could see a few issues if he played this too defensively - Superboy may be quick with his moves, but that didn't mean his reaction times would be so fast. If Robin could catch him off guard, just once or twice, maybe he'd have a chance to get in some of his more devastating moves. If Superboy could win against them, he'd look even stronger, and it would still help to show off Robin's own moves - enough performing like that and a loss didn't really change people’s perceptions of you all too much.

Superboy turned suddenly, pushing his back hard against the ropes before letting go and letting himself catapult forwards. Robin dodged to the left, grabbing a hold of Superboy's arm before dropping to the ground and flipping Superboy right over. Superboy went down fast enough without too much resistance - Robin hadn't exactly hinted at that move, but Superboy was playing along just fine. He must have really listened to the advice about Red Robin and improvising. Robin tried to hide a smile as he dug one elbow into Superboy's stomach and pulled Superboy's leg up in a cheeky attempt at a pin. Superboy kicked out almost immediately and rolled away.

Robin shook himself off before retreating to the edge of the ring. Back against the turnbuckle, he pulled himself to stand on the top rope again before launching himself on a front flip at Superboy. Instead of being mowed down, Superboy caught him in what must have looked like a hug to most people, before bending his knees and throwing Robin backwards over Superboy's own head. It was a harder bump than Robin expected - of all of the counter attacks, this wasn't one that he had expected and he only had time to make sure he fell correctly. It still wasn't exactly painful, as Robin rolled enough to lessen the impact. He allowed himself to roll all the way out of the ring, acutely aware of the five second count out that the referee would be doing any time soon. Looking up, Superboy was posturing, flexing at the audience again which gave Red Robin a couple of seconds to figure something out. Ducking lower, so that it might look to the audience like Superboy couldn't see him, he ran around the edge of the ring, climbing back up the ropes at the corner behind Superboy. Climbing to the top ropes as Superboy conveniently didn't seem to notice him, Robin jumped forward, his legs resting on Superboy's shoulders for just a second before pulling Superboy backwards. Robin dropped and flipped him in a reverse headscissors takedown. If only he could have seen Conner's expression - real _or_ fake. Regardless, the move felt good and he was confident that it looked _great._

Robin felt the landing stick - Superboy didn't seem to land awkwardly at all and stayed down for a little while - at least he was making it look like an impact. After a minute or so of groaning, he got up with a look on his face - determination, maybe. 

Mirroring Superboy from earlier, Robin leaned back against the ropes, leaving a second before letting them propel himself forwards. He was preparing to duck in case Superboy tried to clothesline him - that seemed like the sort of thing he'd do, right? But instead of that, Superboy ducked to the side and managed to get around Tim's midsection before he'd even passed him. Positioned firmly behind Tim, Superboy bent his knees and dropped backwards into a suplex. Tim gasped slightly at the impact - it was a while since someone had managed to pull that on him and his back was most certainly going to be red after that. Suoerboy let go, and Tim thought he'd have a second to collect himself. Suddenly, Superboy was on him, covering half of his body and pulling a leg up as the ref slapped the ring as the count out began.

Having planned to lose or not, there was no way that Robin was going to be beaten by a suplex. He kicked out, just narrowing missing Superboy himself - his fault for getting too cocky. Robin rolled away and thankfully was left alone to do so. One more big move before losing would be nice, providing that Superboy actually picked a good move to win with.

Another charge from the corner; Superboy looked almost murderous. Robin readied himself to try to flip or jump if Superboy was about to hit him with a full on attack from the front. Superboy's knee lifted and Robin did jump - but Superboy's momentum shifted, and instead, his right arm came down from above his shoulder, hitting Robin square in the chest. The punch barely made contact as Robin flew backwards, made easier by already being mid jump and allowing himself a not-so-graceful fall. Who'd have thought that Superboy would have taken up the _Superman Punch?_ He closed his eyes, allowing himself to seem completely out of it as Superboy went for one last pin. One, two, three - the bell rang and the pressure came off as Superboy pulled himself up. Robin allowed himself to slowly open his eyes, watching as the ref held up one arm of Superboy, his music playing in the background. The crowd cheered, and from what Robin could see, Superboy looked genuinely elated. It was a good match; hopefully a strong enough start for Superboy that it would be easy for fans to want to follow his matches. 

As Superboy left the ring and exited back the way he came, Robin rolled out of the ring, giving himself a second to breathe once his feet hit the floor.

“Timmy, that was _great!”_ Suddenly Dick was in front of him, both hands lightly clasping Robin's forearms. How had he gotten out of the commentator's booth so quickly? “You guys absolutely killed it, I’m so proud of you! Are you okay though? I couldn’t tell if some of those actually -”

“I’m fine.” Tim smiled, standing up straight and gently shrugging out of his brother’s hold. He gestured to the exit to lead Dick away from the crowd and the rest of the staff hanging around. Someone shoved a bottle of water in his hand, but he barely registered who it was as the buzz of the crowd distracted him. “Given we hardly had any time to prepare, I think I’m happy with that. He was faster at reacting than I thought.”

Dick nodded. “Definitely a professional, but I guess with a dad like Clark you’d have to be, right? I mean, _he_ was perfect from early on, so I guess it’s to be expected that Superboy - “

“Perfect is a stretch,” Robin laughed as he shook his head. “Definitely good for a first match either way. I need to wrestle him again when he’s more settled in - I think he’ll need to have frequent matches to keep up his momentum - we need to figure out who - “

It was Dick’s turn to interrupt Robin this time. “Hey, less working, more relaxing. You’ve just come from a big match, I don’t want to hear those cogs turning in your head so hard! We can figure out matches and all that stuff another time. I’ve barely had a chance to speak to him myself apart from that first time, I’m kind of looking forward to it. A younger Clark! It’s so exciting to have the chance to see another one grow from quite early on, y’know? When you look at videos from early on in Superman's career, he was so good already, yet he’s ten times better now, can you imagine _Superboy_ ten times better than he is now?”

“Dick, stop fanboying.” Tim pulled off his cowl when they were finally away from everything, despite people knowing who he actually was - so far at least Red Robin had never been photographed without his cowl, and he didn’t intend to start now. He shook his head, but all of his hair stayed stuck to his head with sweat. He was acutely beginning to realise just how gross he felt after such a physical match. “Anyway, he does not seem to be anything even _like_ Clark. Sure, he uses some moves, but he is _cocky_. He’s perfect heel material, and I don’t just mean Superman's three month heel turn before he was beat by Batman and became a good guy again. I think Superboy could actually pull it off long term, and it would be a lot more interesting than people just seeing him as a young Superman; that would get boring fast.” He finally opened the bottle in his hand, taking a long sip of the heavenly cool water. He considered only for a second pouring it all over his face, but there was no point when he would only be showering soon anyway.

“You really think? If he could actually pull it off, he could be seriously amazing. Anyway, _still_ not the time for any of this right now, little brother. You need to eat or anything first or…?”

Tim shook his head. “We’re nearly at the locker room now, I may as well get clean first. Afterwards, though?”

Dick grinned. “Of course. Meet you in the foyer when you’re done? Oh, but take your time. Enjoy your shower, you’ve earned it! But make sure you double check you’re fine, have you still got some cream for bruises left? I can go and get you some if you haven’t, and make sure you stretch too - “

This time, it was Tim’s hands on Dick’s shoulders. “ _Dick._ Stop fussing. I can and will look after myself, okay? Go take half an hour to chill and I’ll see you down there.” 

“Okay, for a start, you do _not_ always look after yourself, but fine,” Dick sighed. “Honestly, if you need longer, just let me know. See you in a bit?”

“See you in a bit.” Tim nodded, leaving his brother to carry on forward to the locker rooms. Dick was a lovely and caring brother, really, but he was so overbearing sometimes. He needed to stop worrying, but after already having one brother who had seriously injured himself once (because he was reckless and Tim was _not_ reckless, thank you very much) it was somewhat understandable.

Finally arriving at the locker rooms, Tim rested his hand on the doorknob for just a second, appreciating how cool it was on his still flushed skin. Letting some of the tension out now that he was finally alone, he smiled and entered the room. He headed straight to the locker he’d left his things in before the match, pulling out a towel and dropping the rest of his bag on to the bench.

It was only once he stood back up to detach his cape entirely that he even realised anyone else was there. Across the bench from him stood Conner Kent, mouth agape as he stared at him. Gone was the cockiness from early, replaced only by confusion.

“What?” Tim asked, deadpan. He found the clasp for the cape, pulling it and the rest of the cowl settled around his neck off. He dropped it on the bench before dropping one, two gloves on top of it.

 _“You,”_ Conner said, and suddenly it all came back to Tim.

“What’s the matter?” Tim replied innocently. “Didn’t you recognise me in my ring gear?” Oh, this was golden. It took all of his concentration not to break into a grin.

Crossing his arms against his bare, sweaty, well defined chest. Conner stared at him. “You can _wrestle.”_

“Thanks for noticing,” Tim smiled wryly. Next came off a boot; he cursed them for not having easy zips or laces. Thankfully it came off easy enough, and he didn’t have to make a fool of himself hopping around to pull it off. It happened often enough.

“I mean,” Conner sighed, “You’re _Red Robin!”_

Tim dropped the other boot. “Really? I hadn’t noticed.”

“Okay, stop being an asshole.” Conner frowned. “When were you gonna tell me?”

 _Who_ was the one being an asshole the last time they met? “I didn’t realise I had to. It’s hardly a secret that I’m Red Robin, mostly everyone knows.” He shrugged. 

Conner opened his mouth to say something, but stopped himself. He let out a small huff, adjusting the towel around his waist and stood there for a second.

Who knew what was going on in that head, if anything.

...Maybe Tim shouldn't be so mean; it was a tiring match and Conner hardly seemed like the sort of person who had much brain power at the best of times.

“Great match by the way,” Tim said conversationally as he felt around for the thin zip at the back of his suit, twisting his own arm slightly to get it to pull down to his shoulder blades where he could readjust his arm to pull it the rest of the way.

Conner was still frowning, and it seemed to take him a second to process what Tim was saying. “Oh. Yeah. You were better than I ex - I mean, you were good.” He nodded.

It took all that Tim had not to raise an eyebrow but he stopped himself. Plenty of people underestimated him, but he always proved them wrong. “I _am_ a professional wrestler, you know.” He cracked a little smile to show there were no hard feelings. There was no need to entirely destroy this work relationship before it even happened, despite whatever first impression Conner had made. “You improvised much faster than I expected. I think it made for a good show.”

Nodding again, Conner leaned back against the locker. “I was warned that you were a high flier, so I…” his brow furrowed for a second as he tried to think of the right word. It would have almost been cute, had he not been such a dick. “Got ready to fall. A lot. That balance though - I didn’t know you were so… you were like a tightrope walker or something. Is it because you’re so small?” At Tim’s raised eyebrow, a look of panic flashed on Conner’s face and he backpedaled quickly. “I mean light. You know, light enough to not weigh down the ropes too much.” Tim gave no hint to what he was thinking, as he watched Conner watching _him_ for any kind of sign that he’d either offended him further or fixed his mistake. It was kind of entertaining.

“Anyone can work the ropes,” Tim said finally, focusing back on his suit. “It takes balance and skill, it isn't something that anyone could just _do_ because they're smaller.”

He’d love to see Conner’s expression right now if he wasn't working so hard to be nonchalant about all of this. 

“R - right,” Conner stuttered. “Right. Yeah. Impressive, it was, really. Uh…”

“And of course,” Tim glanced up. “Congratulations on the win, _Superboy.”_

Something flashed in Superboy’s eyes as if he had only just realised that he did in fact win. “Yeah! Did you see the crowd’s faces? They were all for it! So, uh, thanks for not making it not look easy or anything.”

“Why would it have looked easy? I said Red Robin could sell. I didn’t say he was a bitch.” Conner looked stunned once again, but Tim kept his composure and didn’t show the satisfaction he felt at that. “Anyway, are you sticking around to watch me change, or are you actually going to shower now?”

“...I’m not -”

Oh, that flush of embarrassment was delightful. Tim simply gestured towards the showers as he began to pull the suit from his shoulders, freeing one arm at a time. Conner skittered away. Red Robin may have lost to Superboy, but right now it felt like Tim Drake-Wayne had won against Conner Kent, and that was all he needed.

**Author's Note:**

> First of all, I have to give a huge thanks to greenpiggles for being my beta and helping me figure out a lot about how I write and where to improve!  
> I have been a big fan of All Elite Wrestling since it started last year, and there's so much that both wrestling and superhero comics have in common that I couldn't help it! This is intended to be a part of the series with more characters joining the company (and eventual Timkon...) though I'm most certainly not the fastest writer. Please let me know if you would want to see more of this, including if the fight scene worked for you and what I could improve!
> 
> Writing related or not, please visit me at @konimello on twitter and talk Tim Drake with me!


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